Fall
by Beautifully Corrupted
Summary: I didn't exactly mean to get attacked by some crazy person. Things just sort of you know...happen. I guess that would also explain the rest of the stuff that happens to me when I meet up with this 'group'...Slight AU Carl/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, this is my first Walking Dead fiction. I would like to warn you right now, even with the rating it has mentions of sexual and violent themes...obviously. I just felt like I had to warn you, some people will start tearing me up in the reviews if I don't so...you have been warned. Another warning would be this, I have not seen the entire series, I will most likely get some facts wrong, please correct me if I do, I will do my best to fix it. Oh and Carl is 14 in this story, I don't know how old he is in the show but I know he is somewhere around there. Enough with the warnings and on with the story :)**

_Chapter one, Fight,_

I look up at the sky, nestling closer to the trunk of the tree. You know, I've always been curious about the sky; well not so much the sky as the stars. I never got far enough in my education to find out how they were formed and how far away they really are. My dad used to go on and on about them, I really wish I would have listened.

I sigh, tucking myself further into the blanket, trying to get warmer than the cold unforgiving fall air. I wonder what winter will be like...hopefully not too cold.

I quiet myself as I hear a couple of groaning weridos stumble below me. I'd really they rather not gather around me tree, even if they can't climb as high as I am, it still freaks me out. When I'm freaked out I don't sleep, I happen to like sleep.

Just as I am finally about to fall asleep, I hear the sound of a car engine rev up. I sigh, banging the back of my head against the base of the tree. Why can't people (even dead ones) just learn to leave me alone?

As soon as I am sure I hear the car pull away, and the walkers following it. I fall back, collapsing against the blanket. I struggle to find a comfortable position with the rope tied so tightly around my waist. I know it's for the best that I have said rope, but that doesn't stop the rope from being obnoxious.

My eyes droop downwards, and I am willingly pulled into the land of dreams.

Damn sun, waking me up all the time. I grumble incoherently as I pack up my blanket, pillow, and untie my waist from the tree. I stand up, holding on to the higher branches for support. I look down, carefully examining the entire landscape in search for walkers. Deciding that there are none for at least a twenty square foot radius around the tree, I stuff everything in my bag and climb down the tree.

Swinging my backpack over my shoulder, I begin to unload some of my weapons. I swing a bow around my shoulder, much like the bag, and securely tuck twelve hand made arrows in the also hand made quiver that was attached by velcro to my left leg. I un-hitch the sword from my bag, keeping it my hand, and strap two fully loaded pistols to the sides of my hips; you can never me to careful in these situations!

I begin trudging through light brush, hoping to find a main road.

Question:

Where am I going?

Answer:

I have no fucking clue.

I am not trying to find some long lost family or anything like that, I know very well where my family is. As far as I know, they are still alive and apart of some group of survivors somewhere. They might be dead, I don't really care all that much. No, my family isn't the loving 'we'll get through this together' type of family. It's quite the opposite actually, my dad said a few sentences to me when the outbreak started.

"You're too much of a liability. I need to keep your brother and mother alive above all else, here's a gun and some bullets, you already know how to shoot it. Good luck, Jade, when this thing ends, if you're still alive come find us," He gave me a gun and some bullets, got in the car with my mom and younger brother and left.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Something along the lines of, how could he do that to a eleven-year-old? Well, I'll admit he was right. I am a liability, I am reckless and really I only think about myself. Although, I am still forever angry at them for leaving me in a world of walkers to fend for myself.

I've never really needed to become a part of a 'team' to survive, but family would have been nice. Don't they say that family lasts forever? Clearly, whoever 'they' happens to be hasn't met my family.

I hear several groaning freaks from around me, it's unsurprising that they can smell me. I've recently bathed so I don't doubt the fact that I smell quite human right now.

As one of them gets within arms distance of me I slice his (or her, I have a hard time telling sometimes) head off with minimal struggle. I am only fourteen, not the strongest person in the world.

As the others limp towards me, I wonder why they are so scary. I mean, I could out run them with no problem. They're irritatingly slow, I think it's because they eat us. I believe that the scared, worried feeling is what prey feel every day in the wild. Humans are no longer at the top of the food chain, and I think that's what scares us the most.

Bringing a swift uppercut kick to the jaw to one of the four walkers, the corpse stumbles back giving me time to shoot him in the head. Yes, I have silencers on my guns, I'm not stupid. I hastily slice the heads off of the other remaining walkers and wipe the sword off on the grass. I hate blood on my shiny sword, the sword will treat you as well as you treat it.

I continue to walk in the general south direction, things are hotter in the south...right? I hope so, I'd rather not be caught in a harsh winter with no where to stay. Imagine that, surviving all this crazy walker business only to die of hypothermia. That would be...awful.

Picture the grave stone,

Jade Macl

November 3rd 1999 through (Insert year past...well now... here)

Survived Zombie Apocalypse only to die of hypothermia.

Oh God, I can see it now. If any one were going to die that way it would be me.

Holy cheese belles! A river! With running water and everything!

Pulling out a lighter and my water canteen, I gathered some dry leaves and sticks. Honestly, I am fairly horrible at making fires, without the lighter I'd be hopeless. I set rocks in a circle and drop the leaves and such in the rock created circle. I smile broadly as I flick the lighter and the fire starts. I gather about a pint of water and begin to boil it.

I stomp out the fire, so far it's been a fairly profitable day. I have exactly one gallon of clean drinking water, and my food supplies will last me about five more days if I am careful.

I begin walking again, you know I am beginning to think that not having an destination just makes things worse. I have no where I need to go, there is never going to be someone waiting for me. Praying for the day that I come back to them, no one to make me a meal when I get hungry. Nope. It's always going to be just me.

I can't say that I mind that, I did at first, but now I've come to terms with it.

That's about the time when I hear the gunshot. For fucks sake does no one have a silencer? I think...I think it came from behind me. I turn around to see a man, his beard scruffy and his curly brown hair a complete mess, blood shot blue eyes and an entire appearance of straight up crazy.

Crazy man is loading his gun, again. What the hell? I see a silencer on the damn gun! I understand that he's trying to shoot me and all, but for the sake of all things chocolate, why the fuck wouldn't he use the damn silencer? Some people really annoy me.

He aims the gun again, and fires. Missing by a long shot. Damn him, now walkers are gathering around like a fucking dinner bell has been rung.

"How fucking insane are you?" I demand angrily, as I chop heads off of walkers.

"Stay away from my family!" Crazy one shouts.

"I don't give a damn about your family, you psychopath!" I shout at him. From the looks of things, they don't seem to give a damn about him either.

"Rick? You okay out there?" A thundering female voice calls from behind.

Okay, so...his name is Rick.

"Fine," He answers gruffly.

"Oh, yeah, if that's what you call fine that I am fuck-freaking-tastic," I say rolling my eyes. For now, all the walkers are dead. For now. I can hear some more groaning and moaning coming towards us.

"Would it have killed you to use the goddamn silencer, you fucking moron?" I normally don't curse this much, but when you are in this type of situation I think there is a universal rule out there somewhere that allows you to curse as much as you see fit.

Rick, doesn't say anything, instead he keeps trying to shoot me with that loud fucking gun.

"You told me to stay away from your family? Well, look what you've done now," I say, trying to make him stop. Hopefully, not every walker in a fifty mile radius has heard the damn shots...oh wait they probably have.

"They. Safe." He says, reminding me of a primitive monkey.

"So, I see that you have the speech patterns of a cave-man, wait to go!" I say with mock enthusiasm as I begin to shot the walkers.

Damn, there are too many!

"Wait to fucking go, you dipshit!" I yell loudly, losing my temper.

Now that I think about it, I might be what most people would call 'Hot-tempered'. I remember when I was in school...I was the weird girl. Not the one that ate paste and her hair, no that was reserved for Amilia Blak but the one that would wander around on her friends shoulders singing random and disturbing little songs that we had come up with that day.

Aria Jean Gram, and Adaline Karma Brook. The two people on Earth that don't annoy the fuck out of me. They were my best friends since first grade. We used to do all sorts of weird shit, running around parking lots screaming about fires, running out of the zoo telling people that the animals were on the loose. You know, the basics. I really hope those two are okay.

I swung my sword around messily, hoping it would collide with a body or something. It did kill a few walkers. Although, my quick gun shooting killed Ice-cream, they began to thin out. A lot of them going towards the crazy guy who was kicking ass like no ones damn business. Shit...I am officially out of bullets. Not completely, I still have a few dozen rounds in my bag, but I'd rather not reload right now.

I drop the guns, figuring that I'll pick them up a little later when I'm out of moral peril. In one swift movement my bow is ready to fire arrows at unsuspecting walkers. I take at least seven out before the crowd is thin enough for me to strap the pistols to my hips and remove the arrows from walker heads.

I look towards Rick, who happens to be sweating heavily, covered in blood and panting. He took out all of the walkers attacking him with a shitty gun that he couldn't even shoot me when my back was turned...what in the hell?

"Rick?" The lady calls again, this time her voice is closer. Oh sure, now the lady comes, logic my friends. Logic (Does that spongebob imagination rainbow thing) it is truly a wonderful thing.

"Rick, who is she?" The lady asks emerging from behind the trees. It's not a valid question like...hey crazy guy that I apparently know, why are you covered in blood? Or even, why are there so many walker bodies on the ground? OR Why the hell were you firing gun shots without the damn silencer that you have, are you a fucking moron or something?

No no, clearly those questions are to primitive. The question she asks is, who is she? You wanna know who I am bitch? I'm the teenager that just about got murdered because this fucking freak was being a fucking moron that's who I am.

"She's trying to kill us!" 'Rick' shouts, pointing at me with his shitty gun.

"Would you keep your voice down! I've dealt with enough walkers for the day,"

"Clearly, you're a skilled fighter. What else would you be doing scoping around the prison?" Rick demands.

I look over at the lady, she has long blonde hair and a tan shade of skin, her glowing blue eyes alight with both fear and confusion; although it doesn't take a genius to figure out that this girl is typically smiling and lauging. She seems to be southern from the sound of her voice. If I was to describe her I'd go with something like the sun-kissed southern bell.

"Listen you moron, I'm not here to kill anyone. You're the one who started firing shots at me like some drunk shooter who has shitty aim. Let me make this clear. You get that gun out of my face, or I will snap your arm in half," I growl.

"Is that a threat?" He asks, outraged.

"No, it's a fucking play date invitation. Of course it's a damn threat, Rick," I say, pronouncing his name sharply.

"Lis-"

"No, you listen. I said get the damn gun out of my face. You have about three seconds,"

"Three seconds is long enough to shoot you," He says, I see his finger itch at the trigger. I also hear the lady gasp, but I don't really think. It's pure survival instinct and a little bit just because I wanted to when I flip Rick over so he's lying on some of the dead bodies that lay on the ground.

"I warned you," I say growling loudly.

"Why you lit-" He begins.

"The girl did warn ya Rick, I would'a done the same thing. She was merely protected herself," The woman interrupts. I can see on her face that she wants to reach out and pull me towards her in a mothering embrace-type thing. Lucky for both of us she refrains.

"Beth! I can't believe you're siding with her!" Rick protests childishly.

"Oh shut it Rick! I'm taking her inside to see if she's okay. You seem to have gone and called in hell knows what! Come on dear," Beth says gesturing for me to follow her. I am reluctant, Beth seems generally trust worthy but if there are more like Rick...I would rather high tail it out of here.

Finally, I decide I'll take my chances with Beth. Rick's murderous glare being the thing that helps me decide. I really don't want to spend another second out here with him. The only reason he is not lunging for my throat right now is because his leg is mildly injured for the time being.

I run quickly to Beth's side, figuring that if I am in front of her, Rick will have to get through her first. At the very least, she's a warning system.

Past a little bit of trees I see...a prison? Holy...why the hell haven't I thought about this! It would be the perfect plot! Hide in a prison where no one gets in or out unless you want them to! Sure, you'd have to take care of the prisoners but after that you could live life at ease.

Chill out, kick back, relax. It is by far one of the best places to live during times like this. I eagerly follow her thorough the prison gates which open for her and close behind us.

"Who's that?" A new voice asks, this one very masculine.

"A girl that Rick was trying to murder," Beth says cheerfully. I am fairly certain that Beth is the only person I have met in my entire life that can make that statement sound cheery.

"Empty out your bag and if we find any weapons on you we won't hesitate to kill you," The male says, like it is a rehearsed line. He comes into my view and he appears to be Asian, square face, nothing special.

"You do realize that few seconds ago someone from your group just tried to kill me. In the process of trying to kill me, he summoned about fifteen other walkers who in addition to him tried to kill me, right?" I pause, he nods, "Oh, okay so you still expect me to empty out all my weapons and leave myself completely defenseless?" I ask skeptically. Trying to make him realize how stupid that really sounds.

"Yes, I do," He says gruffly.

"No, I put all of my guns, and arrows in my bag. I am keeping the sword on me. You will be able to see it at all times, and if I do anything you don't like then you can shoot me," I reason.

He ponders over this, and I examine his face further, from the looks of things he just got beat up. Really really badly.

"How old are you?" He asks.

"Fourteen," I reply instantly. I'm almost fifteen! Yeah, I know it's a little silly to be so excited about things like this with everything going on around me but it doesn't stop me from being excited.

"You're only fourteen?" Beth exclaims in disbelief.

"...Yeah..."

"But you-you just-" I cut her off.

"I know, I look like a child, I fight like an adult and my boobs are bigger than the average fourteen-year-old," I say. Really, I only added that last one in there for a bit of self encouragement.

I see the Asian one check out my breasts as I point them out, I try to ignore the other expressions on his face.

"Well...yeah..but we have a fourteen-year-old boy here!" Beth exclaims.

I smile weakly as she leads me away from Glenn, as I have learned his name to be, and look remorsefully at my bag. Which now doesn't have any of clothes in it. I have two pairs of clothes. One I am wearing right now, and one I am holding right now.

"A SHOWER! Is that...shampoo?" I ask almost not believing it.

"Yeah, that's shampoo, but the waters cold," Beth answers in amusement.

"I've been taking cold river baths for three years, a cold clean shower isn't going to kill me," I answer.

Beth laughs lightly, "I'll leave you to it. Don't take too long though, I'll be right outside when you're ready," with that she leave the room.

I smile widely, stripping down and turning the water on, Beth is a liar. The water isn't cold, it's warm! I sigh blissfully and allow the warm water to pelt against my skin.

When I am finished with the shower, I notice fresh never been used before razors, and pick one up. Taking extra care to shave.

I slip on a black tank top, tight black leather pants, black socks, and slick black knee high boots. An outfit practically identical to my last one. Only a few things are different when I'm outside roaming about I wear a long sleeved leather jacket over my tank-top, as well as a black hat to tuck my hair into. All of my clothes are like a second skin to avoid drag and to make sure no walkers grab me. There is no real reason that they're black. I just like the color black.

"Oh! You look so much better now that all that dried blood is gone! My, you're pale! How do you manage a skin complexion like that out there in the sun all day?" Beth asks as soon as I leave the showering room.

"I don't tan," I shrug, attempting to dry off my deep red hair. My hair is about as close as you can get to a naturally occurring red velvet.

"Oh and your hair! What a lovely shade, I can't wait to see it when it dries!" Beth admires.

I just nod as she leads me away, I can tell from her persistent babbling that she doesn't get a lot of guests.

"Okay, this is my sister Maggie," Beth says, the cropped brown haired girl and I exchange introductions.

"This is my daddy, Hershel," I shake the old mans hand, introducing myself in the same way.

"Oh, and this is Carol," I smile at the buzz cut woman.

"Wait...what's your name?" Beth asks.

"Uh...my name is Jade," I say.

"Who is the new girl?" A voice says from behind me.

I turn around, and find myself staring directly into deep, dark, blue eyes.

I'm guessing this is the fourteen-year-old boy.

**And that concludes the first chapter...I'll be honest. I am as big as a review whore as the next writer, so review away :) Once again, I have only seen this season so my history and timing may not be quite right but...oh well...remember Carl is roughly the same age as Jade. I hoped you liked this chapter:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**...I got nothing...see you at the bottom.**

_Chapter two, Settling_

...I'm guessing this is the fourteen-year-old boy Beth told me about.

"Jade," I say stupidly in response to his earlier question.

"I'm Carl," He says gruffly. Really, I can't focus on anything other then his eyes. They are really nice eyes. Wait...Carl? His name is Carl? Oh dear God, that is such a horrible name. No offense to anyone whose name happens to be Carl, but like...ugh. It just doesn't seem to suit him.

I tear my gaze away from his face and look at him in a whole. He is wearing a worn out T-shirt with a jacket over it, jeans and some weird sheriff hat on his head. Still, with his slightly longer than it should be brown hair and over-all bad-ass appearance he pulls of the hat pretty well.

"Carl?" I ask before I can help myself. Wait to ruin everything, although you can't really blame me, I a rock has better social skills than I do.

"Yeah..."

"Oh, uh, cool," I manage to Beth wasn't in the room I would have left the moment I said "Carl?" what's wrong with me?

"Beth, what's Jade doing here?" He asks, turning his attention to Beth, completely ignoring me.

"Oh gee, great to see I'm being acknowledged," I say, not bothering to filter the sarcastic remarks shooting out of my mouth.

"Your dad tried to kill the poor girl!" Beth nearly exclaims.

"Why? Did she steal or attack or something?" Carl asks, instantly alert. I glare at him, why would he automatically assume that I screwed up? Why doesn't he blame Rick, he's the...oh...realization. Carl is Rick's son. Well, stuff me with a chew toy and call me squeaky. Please...don't actually do that.

"No, I didn't do shit. I was wandering around minding my own damn business when your 'father' starts shooting at me like a crazed maniac with the aim of a drunk person. Calling the attention of all sorts of fucking walkers in the process," I inform him, so elegantly.

I see Carol flinch at my crude language, but she doesn't scold me for it.

"I like her," Says a new voice. I turn around to see a black woman, looking at me with an approving facial expression.

"Thank you..."

"You carry around a sword?"

"I do."

"I like you even more,"

"I'm Jade,"

"Mishone,"

"Hey everyone, I'm back!" Says some southern accent. I look up to see a tall lanky man, in a prison jump-suit, he's quite...unattractive if I do say so myself.

"Who's this?" He asks, directed at me. Although, I can faintly hear him introduce himself, and I notice that he steps in front of Carl, and I go through the motions, I am still meeting Carl's deep glare from over the mans shoulder.

"How about we go outside and I show you around," Beth suggests.

Everyone nods and agrees, I smile at Beth but never retract my gaze from a pair of entrancing blue eyes.

"You know, there was this-" The tall lanky man begins. It's a shame that a bullet went straight through his brain before he could finish. Wait...bullet...gun...person...attack...COVER!

As my brain processes what just happened instinct, which I've developed by years of living alone in a kill or be killed world, kicks in and I duck behind the nearest source of cover. When I lunge for cover I bring Beth and...kill me now, I pretty much just tackled Carl. Well, I saved him...sort of... I think that balances things out a little bit.

"Dammit! My guns and pretty much all weapons are gone!" I curse.

"No they're not. I have them right here," Carl says, dangling my favorite dagger in front of my face.  
"You better give them to me," I warn.

"I only have one of your guns and this dagger," He says.

"Well, you better give me my damn gun," I command.

He smiles devilishly and gets a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What are...CARL!" I scream whisper and he fires my gun at one of the attackers.

"Hey, you're an outsider. I like this gun."

"I will kill you-r fire-truck," Nice save, I know. I really don't think threatening his life in this serious of a situation is a good thing to do, but his fire-trucks life...that's another story.

"...My fire truck?"

"Yes. Your fire-Holy hell that isn't good," I exclaim loudly as a van breaks the front fence.

"Daddy!" Beth calls out, I look over to see the one legged man frantically trying to get back to safety. The van door opens and out comes...surprise, surprise, walkers.

"Dammit Carl! Give me the damn gun. Now," I command.

"Why should I trust you?" He asks. I have this weird feeling that this question is one of those that is going to come back and haunt me later.

"Just take a leap of faith," I say.

"Fine," And then he hands me the gun.

"Alright, Beth you stay here. Carl, you're coming with me," I command, cocking the gun.

"O-Okay," Beth stutters, anxiously making sure her father is okay. It's a good thing people are there to help him.

"Where are we going?"

"To make sure no other walkers breach the permitter," I say in my most military sounding voice.

"On it," He says, following me.

I dive out of the covered area, avoiding the bullets flying at me.

I fire the gun at one of our attackers, the person stops shooting, actually...he's dead. Good.

"So, you want to tell me what the hell is going on?" I ask casually while shooting some of the walkers. I know, why wouldn't I just use my sword? Well, truth is I don't think now is the time. Besides, some cool black lady with dreadlocks is all over her sword wielding awesomeness. I don't think I can compare to that.

"Well...It's sort of a long story,"

"I can't wait for story time when this attack is over," I say with mock enthusiasm.

"If we live," Carl mutters under his breath.

"If? I don't know about you, but I've survived a lot of serious shit. I'm not going to let these bastards kill me, not today anyway," I inform him as I shot at all foreign people.

I see some trucks disappearing in the distance and do a final intake a few of the walkers who thought it was a free for all meal.

"Well...what just happened?" I ask as soon as everyone is rushed into the prison.

Rick is here to, yay.

"Sorry," He mutters to my gruffly.

I roll my eyes, and turn around to Carl.

"What the hell just happened?"

"You seem a little too young to use that kind of language, maybe someone ought to teach you a lesson on how to be a lady," Some rough southern accent observed. I turned on him to find an unattractive male who looks a lot older than he probably is. He steps closer to me, in an attempt to scare me. Psh, as if.

"You seem a little too arrogant, maybe someone ought to kick your ass," I say, stepping even closer to him.

"Someone like you?"

"Hell yeah, wanna go Mr. Ear hair?"

"It'll teach you how to respect your elders," He says, leaning closer to me so I can smell his breath. Oh dear god, someone get him some air spray or bathe him in elephant poop, either way he'll smell better.

"Merle! That's not the best idea," Another southern voice says. This time, it comes from an attractive male. The real bad-ass 'I like to ride motorcycles' and 'Don't bring me back to your parents' type of guy, but he pulls it off pretty well.

"Why? You don't think I can take her?" 'Merle' asks.

"Just stop," The bad-ass practically pleads.

"Fine." Merle agrees grudgingly.

"I win," I sing song, before skipping over to the attractive one.

"I'm Jade," I say sticking out my hand.

"Daryl." He says shaking my hand.

I smile at him, feeling oddly happy, and flounce over to Rick.

"I want my bag back,"

"No." Rick denies.

"Was that a yes or no question? Oops, what I meant to say was...give me the bag,"

"If I give it to you, then you have to leave," Rick say, smirking smugly.

"Fine by me, now give me my bag," I bluff.

"Dad, just give her the bag," Carl sighs.

Rick looks back and forth between us, "You're responsible for the girl," and then he gives me my bag.

I smile as I rummage through it and I pick a can of peaches out, open it and start eating.

Everyone in the group looks at me oddly, "What?" I ask between peaches.

"We were just attacked...and you're eating peaches?" Maggie asks.

"I like peaches. Besides I got attacked just about every day out there. Peaches make the world a better place," I explain.

"Peaches? Why do you choose peaches?" Glenn asks, clearly amused by my obsession with said peaches.

"...I love them," I say seriously.

"Love is a strong word, little girl," Merle says. I swear to all things blue this guy wants to get socked in the face.

"Well, so is Gary," I shrug.

"Gary?" Beth asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Gary."

"All are teenagers like you? Cause I don't remember actin' like you," Merle tells me.

"Please, please don't make me punch you in the face. Daryl seems like a nice guy, but I will punch you in the face no matter how close you are to him," I inform him causally, while eating my peaches.

"You want to go?"

"After I finish my peaches," I confirm.

He smirks and knocks the peaches out of my hands, they fall against the floor with a clang and the fruit drips out.

Everyone goes quiet, as if they can sense the anger rushing through me.

"YOU RUINED MY PEACHES!?"

"What, is the little girl going to cry over spilled milk?"

"You think you're so tough? Army, right? Yeah well...arhagkdas" I cry out as I lunge at him. Seeing as he wasn't ready for this attack, I knock him to the ground. Taking even further advantage of his surprise I nail him straight in the jaw. He returns the punch and I laugh loudly.

"That's the best you got?" I ask standing up.

"You're bleeding aren't ya?"

"Bleeding? It doesn't even sting, you punch like an eight-year-old," I tease.

He swings again, his movements are so jerky I can easily avoid the blow, with practiced accuracy I punch him in the abdomen and then in the side.

Again, I swiftly avoid all jerky moves thrown at me and reciprocate with smooth elegant kicks and hits.

"Really? I wonder how in hell you've been able to survive,"

"I know how to make the right friends,"

"Figures you couldn't do anything on your own," I say before finishing the job by punching him directly in the neck.

"Don't mess with my peaches," I growl.

Rick looks at me, shock on his face.

"How'd you learn to fight like that?" Mischone asks.

"What? Oh hand-to-hand combat, trial and error," I lie, shrugging.

"Uh-huh," They all nod, not believing me.

"Damn, bitch that hurt!" Merle groans on the floor.

"Baby," I say loudly.

I look at Daryl and he just smiles at me before helping Merle up.

"Are you two like related or something?"

"He's my brother," Daryl confirms.

"Fun," I respond.

"So...uh...what just happened back there?" I ask loudly.

**I'm not worried about making characters OOC. There are times when I try to keep them in character, simply because I like the character, but there's only so much you can do with a canon character. So I like expanding my horizons and making the characters act differently simply for the challenge. It helps me enjoy writing a little bit more, and hopefully, the readers will enjoy it too.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, thanks for the reviews! Really, they mean a lot. Like a lot a lot. I hope you like this chapter!**

_Chapter Three, Story-Telling,_

Michonne gave a proud smile as I sliced the walkers head off with a practiced ease.

"Your form is getting better," She tells me.

I smile widely, "Well, it's hard to get worse," I shrug.

"We should go back inside, training is over for today," The spunky yet quite enigma, proclaims.

"Yes, sir ," I say giving a mock salute.

It's been about a week since the whole 'I'll kill you if you touch my peaches' thing. So far, the group seems very...careful around me. I don't blame them, in this world it's kill or be eaten...literally.

We continue on our way to the prison without another disturbance.

I follow as Michonne leads the way into the prison, I don't say another word.

Honestly, the feeling of solemn-ness tends to overcome me at the most random of moments. One minute, I'll be happy and eating peaches, the next I'll be huddled up in a tree re-thinking my life. I mean...is it really worth surviving? Is this world really worth it? Is this life really worth saving?

The cry of a baby snaps me out of my depressed thinking. Who the hell am I kidding here? Of course it's worth it! It's life!

"I'll get 'er!" Beth calls rushing to the Judith's side.

Judith and Carl. What the hell are these people thinking when they name their children?

Sighing, I skip over to my bag, pick it up, and skip out of the room. Once I am outside, the cool breeze clashing against my skin brings small goose-bumps to rise on my already delicate flesh.

I walk out further through the prison, keeping my guard up, I remain outside though.

At last, I finally find my way out of the maze that is the prison and I am lying on my back in the grass. For once, in a really really long time, I am utterly relaxed. I can hear the groaning of the walkers on the other side of the fence, but I have my guns and sword, if anything troublesome happens I know I'll be fine.

Tuning at the walkers, I can clearly hear the wind rustling through the trees. With a faint smile on my lips I look around, pleased to see that no one is coming, I pull out a spiral bound notebook.

I know it's silly, ridiculous and even a little bit childish to carry around something so...un helpful. But this notebook was my diary before this whole thing even started. It's the only real reminder I have that the world wasn't always this crazy. In fact, it used to be wonderful.

I brush the hair out of my face, and grab a pen from my bag. Turning to a blank page in the journal I begin to write. My elegant pen strokes clashing against the surface of the paper.

_Dear, whatever you are, because I refuse to call you a diary,_

_So...it's been quite sometime since I wrote to you. Actually, it's been far too long. So, a lot of things have happened in the past couple of months. Firstly, I've killed a lot of walkers. Second, I found some prison group thingy and well you know...it's cool and stuff. That right there is what we call a lie. If I'm being honest, this whole thing is just awkward. I've never needed any help taking care of myself before, and now all of the sudden they all treat me like I'll break. Even though they know perfectly well that I can kick serious ass if need arise. Of course, they don't care. Michonne is pretty chill though, she is teaching me how to wield my sword better! Remember a few months ago, when I ran into those people who only had shovels for protection? What a riot that was! Shovels...not guns or anything like that. Shovels. On a more serious note I feel like I have to tell you something, as you know quite well, I'm lost. Not in an actual state of being. I know that I'm in Georgia(Fucking crazy how I got all the way from Maine to Georgia isn't it?) and I know that I am in America. As a person, I am lost. Can you really blame me? This whole world has made me question things that no fourteen-year-old should ever have to worry about, this whole life is...unfair. To be frank it's unfair. Back to the whole lost thing though...I'm lost. I don't know who I am. I know I'm supposed to be Clover Kyr. Although, I pretend I am Jade Malc the girl from New York! I've already made up her whole back story in a previous entry, so I'm not going to rant on and on about her. I honestly, I don't know who I am. I can't be Clover anymore. Clover was innocent, in a twisted sense. Sure, she had to deal with some serious shit that no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to go through. That was before the whole Zombie thing. Although, she never killed anything. Jade Malc on the other hand is more like the girl I have become over the years. Remember when my parents would forget my name and call me Jade instead? That's why I chose the name to begin with. Clover is that tough red-head with am air of innocence. Jade is the bad-ass bitch with an air of arrogance. So which one am I? Am I neither? Am I both? I just don't know. I could very well be both, but that just doesn't feel right. Another thing that just doesn't feel right is this feeling in my gut I get whenever I look at Carl. I know you don't know who that is but...I'll explain...eventually. All you need to know is that he is an arrogant toe-rag with no sense of common decency! And that's coming from me! I don't know what got all up in his chocolate sauce but one day he just woke up and decided to hate me! Wtf? He is always full of these witty snide remarks. I always hit him back with one but it takes longer than it should. You want to know why? I'll tell you why; it's those damn eyes! I blame the eyes! They are the deepest blue I've ever seen in life! I just don't understand why they make me feel so-_

"What're you writing about?" A voice with a sneer attached to it asks.

I have to stifle a groan.

With an urgency I slam the notebook shut, I'd rather he not find out that I was just barely ranting about his eyes in my so not a diary notebook.

"Nothing, anymore," I told him sharply, "Now if you would kindly go screw yourself, or whatever it is you do, I want to get back to my writing," I informed him.

"Seriously, what are you writing? Do you have any stories?" He asks excitedly. For the first time since I've met him, his face lights up with a child-like glee. Honestly, as much as I want to be rude and tell him to go sniff his fathers socks, I can not refuse him when his face is that...cute! The only word to describe his facial expression is cute. And cute it shall be.

"...Yeah, I do," I sigh falling back on the ground.

"Are they like real stories or made-up stories?" He asks, still excited.

"I have both," I tell him.

"Are they any good?" He asks.

"I suppose, why?"

"My mom used to read stories...every night before I went to sleep. She stopped when my dad got hurt though...I really like stories," He tells me. I have a feeling like that was one of those, deep personal attributes everyone seems to have these days. I have my fair share and then some.

I look towards him, only to find those damn blue eyes gazing at me with such an intensity that I forget that I'm supposed to hate him.

I mutter a few choice words under my breath and flip open my notebook. I thrust the book at him, expecting him to read the written words.

"No. Read it aloud." He commands.

I raise an eyebrow, about to tell him off for commanding me to do anything when he looks adorable again.

"Fine. This one is a made-up story. It's just a short one so don't expect amazing-ness," I say sternly. He nods his head with excitement and I proceed to lay down on the grass.

"I named this one 'The moon," I say before continuing on with the tale.

"The silver-haired girl sat by her window sill, praying to every God she could think of. She wasn't praying for anything typical, like money or love or even food, no she was praying for freedom. Not just any freedom, the freedom a princess could never be granted. The girl glared enviously at the pair of children running around in the courtyard. You'd think that she would at least be able to visit the gardens, but no. They were too dangerous. In all her sixteen years of life she had not been outside once. Never had she felt the sweet, loving embrace of the grass under her feet. Never had she been able to truly bask in the life the sun can bring. Never had she been able to smell a fresh flower still on the bush. Never would she be able to.

Carefully, she tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear. The only interaction she had ever had with the outside world was through reading. Through someone else's eyes. Still, she took what she could greedily. She was quite selfish when it came to books, they were, after-all, her only connection to the outside world.

She watched as the children, those children who could freely roam around where ever they saw fit, played in the gardens. Some game, a game the lavender eyed girl had never been taught.

'Clover, dear, it's time for your lesson,' A maid said shyly." Shit! I forgot I named this character Clover. Even with the name confusion I continue the story.

"Just send in the teacher, already," Clover snapped impatiently.

Clover, in all truth, wasn't a typical princess. She wasn't kind and benevolent. Years of living under a temptation you can't have no matter how hard you try can do that to a person. Clover was bitter, envious, cruel, and impatient. It was no secret that the staff feared her greatly.

No matter how much the king and queen would deny it, everyone in the kingdom knew they also feared their daughter. The kind and queen were benevolent, kind and giving. They were willing to do anything for their people, and that included keeping their unusual daughter under lock and key.

Lucky for everyone, their firstborn child was not Clover, but Liam. Liam would rule the kingdom, following in his fathers careful footsteps. Liam was kind and everything one could ask for in a ruler. The opposite of Clover.

This made her even more bitter, why did she even have to stay inside constantly? Because she could scare the villagers? It was not her fault she was unusual. It wasn't her fault her hair resembled the moon, as her eyes were the most intensely pale lavender eyes anyone had ever seen before. It wasn't her fault, yet they still punished her for it.

"Hello, your highness," Her newest professor greeted.

Clover merely glared at him. At some point during the story my head found it's way onto Carl's surprisingly toned chest. He's fourteen, he should not have that much muscle!

The lesson continued like that, the professor would speak, Clover would merely bore into him with her eyes. She figured if they were going to punish her no matter what, she would give them a reason to. She knew the power her eyes held, and she wasn't afraid to wield them as a weapon.

The professor, after a stunning thirty minutes alone with the ice princess, he cracked. Tired of the unnerving feeling her eyes gave him, he ran. Forgetting to close the door behind him.

Clover merely shrugged, and turned her gaze back to the window.

She longed to be out there, she longed for adventure. Was that really too much to ask?

Her eyes turned towards her impossibly pale skin, it was almost as silver as her hair, and sat in wonder. How could this have happened to her? How different would her life be if it hadn't happened?

Clover sat at her window sill, watching the outside world until the sun went down. Somehow, it never failed to amaze her. All of the creatures, so co-dependant on each other, all of the people roaming around as if nothing was wrong. It never failed to interest her.

She looked up, finally, at the night sky. Her eyes wandered for a moment, taking in all of the stars. That was until they locked on the moon. The moon that she loved dearly.

Every night for as long as she could remember she would stare at the moon until she fell asleep. Almost as if the moon replaced the parents that never cared for her.

This night was different, something changed. Maybe it was the fact that it was her birthday, the birthday everyone forgot about, that changed thing. The only thing Clover knew at the time was she was leaving. At last, she was leaving. No one would stop her.

She knew she was leaving the castle that night. The castle that held her prisoner for far too long.

She knew because the moon told her so." I finished reading the writing.

Carl and I sat in silence for a moment, my head resting on his toned chest. Somehow, during the story, not only had my head rested on his chest, but his arm snaked around my shoulders as well.

And we just lay there. A pleasant silence fueling the air. For a moment, I forget about everything, I forget that life sucks. I am just a girl, and Carl is just a boy...named Carl...which I still find really weird.

I fall into the sleep that beckons me, and I hate to admit this. But it's the best damn sleep I've gotten since this whole thing started.

**This chapter was kind of just a pointless fluffy one. I think every story needs a pointless fluffy scene. So...review away:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so, if any of you are confused by this...don't be. I did a time jump thingy-mc-bob and this right here is set directly in the last two episodes of the season.**

**"You're such a werido. No one wants to hear you speak! Er type...seriously though, they came for me," -Jade/Clover**

**"Well, at least I don't have a mistaken identity crisis," Beautifully Corrupted, otherwise known as Aubrie-Marie, says smugly.**

**"I wouldn't have one if you weren't such a horrible writer!" Jade snaps angrily.**

**"That's it! No more peaches for you!" Aubrie-Marie screams.**

**"Fine. I want a new writer! Someone find me a new writer!" Jade announces.**

**"Both of you, quit your yapping! Jade start being compliant, and Aubrie-Marie start writing! Argue on your own time!" Carl, the savoir of the story, interrupts.**

**"Fine," Both of the red-heads grumble.**

_Chapter four, Revealed?_

"Merle did what?!" I screech, causing my fellow travelers to look at me strangely.

"He took Mischonne," Rick says calmly.

"You're kidding me, right?" I pause, "Because that is so not funny, like at all,"

"No. He's not. Now, Rick, I'm going to find him," Daryl says, his tone harsh.

"I'm coming." I declare, picking up my bag.

"No, you'll only slow me down," Daryl says, his tone harsh, yet again.

"You know what? Fuck you. I'm coming even if I have to tie your arm around that pole over there and go on my own," I growl.

"Jade, I know you care about Mischonne, we all do, but Daryl is the best at this," Hershel attempts reasoning with me.

I turn my gaze on him, my eyes filled with pure ice. If these people don't know it already, now is the time to learn, when I really want something I get it. I do not give up, back down, surrender or anything like that. I continue, and do whatever I have to, until I get what I want.

"I'm going with Daryl." I say, my tone leaving no room for discussion.

I see Carol, giving me the look she always gives me. Scolding, disapproving, hints of anger and surprisingly, I have decoded the other look in her eyes as envy. What she envies about me, I don't know. Beth, is watching me meekly. Maggie and Glenn are sending me the look a parent gives their child when they want to do something dangerous. Carl...well...Carl is watching me with a knowing smirk.

He either knows that I am going to get what I want in the end, or he thinks that I'm not. Well, if he thinks that I'm not going with Daryl, he's going to get a wake-up call about now.

In case you haven't noticed, I have come to, ahem, care for Mischonne. In a motherly/sisterly fashion. She has helped me out on multiple occasions. Therefore, I am going to help her as well.

"You know how to track?" Daryl asks, surprising everyone in the room. I send a glance over to Carl, his knowing smirk has been wiped clean from his face.

"Yup," I know a lot of things...I add that last bit there in my head.

"Fine. Let's go." He surrenders. I grin largely, and swing my bag over my head.

"Are we taking the motorcycle?" I ask, excitedly, I've never rode a motorcycle before.

"No."

"Can we?"

"No."

"Fine." I sigh, following him.

The warm air hits me with accuracy, and I bathe in it's glory. I've never really been an outside person, but the pretty outside world, even with the rotting corpses all over the place, is a lot prettier than inside that prison cell.

I follow him in silence, watching as he expertly follows their trail, using things like footprints and stuff.

"This way," He directs, strictly professionally.  
I roll my eyes, "No. That way," I point in the opposite direction.

"What makes you say that?" He sighs, irritated that I question him.

With another role of my eyes, I walk over to a house, and gesture to the parking lot. Daryl looks at me blankly.

"Look. You see all of this gunk on the ground?" I ask, gesturing around.

"...Yes."

"Now, look right here. Yeah...right there, you see this big spot? The big car shaped spot that has no gunk?" I ask slowly, as if I'm talking to a child.

"So?"

"Do I have to spell it out to you? Someone stole a car from here. Recently. Very recently. Who do we know has been in this place recently?" I ask slowly.

"Oh." Daryl says simply.

"Yeah, which means chances are, they took the car, and drove off that way based on the scattered leaves," I say proudly. I bet he's glad he brought me now. I smirk.

"You weren't kidding when you said you could track," He remarks, heading off in the direction that I pointed out.

"No I wasn't," I respond simply, fighting off the thoughts of how I came to adapt these particular skills.

"How'd you learn?" He asks, the one question I don't want him to ask.

"I'm adaptive," I shrug. Lying through my teeth is something that seems to happen a lot when I'm around people. One of the many reasons I like being alone.

"Same way you learned to fight like a professional?" Daryl asks rhetorically.

"You could say that, what about you?" I ask.

"Spent a lot of time in the woods growing up," He says vaguely.

I cast a glance over at him, and in that instant I know, we understand each other. Not fully, but enough. We know better than to pry; after-all some things are better left secrets.

"Yeah..." I trail off.

"Where'd you grow up?" Daryl asks, suddenly curious about my upbringing.

"Uh...New York," Surprise, Surprise, a lie!

"You don't sound very convincing, maybe you should work on that," He remarks casually.

"Well, neither do you, maybe we should work on it together," I shrug, glad he's not pushing the question.

"So you want to be serious and tell me?"

"Mind your own damn business," I snap.

"Sorry," He says mildly. Well, shit now I feel bad.

"Look, I'm sorry. My past isn't something I'm fond of. You know?"

"You bet your ass I know. My only question is this: You're fourteen, how the hell do you have a past like that?" He asks.

"Maybe I'll tell you, when you're older,"

"Trust me, I can handle it," He remarks confidently.

"I know you think you can, but you'd be surprised,"

"Are all teenagers like you?"

"Psh, I'm so not the one to ask there. You've got Carl to compare," I shrug.

"Yeah, but that kids been through a lot. You know, he'd kill me if he knew I'm telling you this, but he is acting a lot better now that you're here,"

"Wait...he was worse than this?" I ask, surprised.

"You have no idea, after- well...after he shot his mom..." Daryl trails off.

"He shot his mom? That's what has him so ruffled up? If he knew what I've been through he'd-" I stop myself, I sound really insensitive.

"You seem to act like shooting his mother isn't a big deal, why?"

"Sometimes I have to remind myself that some people care about their parents," I blab before I can stop myself. I hate that about myself. I really do. I just can't keep my mouth shut, and being away from people for so long has really taken its toll on my lying skills. I used to be good!

"You're fourteen, aren't you?" Daryl asks, surprised.

"I'll be fiffteen eventually," I shrug.

"Right, so how did you end up traveling alone?" He asks, gently. As if it's a sensitive subject.

I'm silent for a good minute, carefully evaluating my response. Should I tell him? Eh, why the hell not? I won't tell him everything, but just enough.

"My parents left me." I say.

"Left you?" He asks in confusion.

"When this whole thing started, my dad gave me a gun, a round of bullets. Told me, if I live through this that I should find them, got in the car and drove away. I haven't seen them since. I have a mom, and a little brother," I say wistfully.

Daryl stops, grabs me by the shoulders and looks at me seriously.

"That sucks," He says, his accent pulling through thickly, and then he did something odd. He hugs me.

Slowly, I hug him back. He smells really bad, and his clothes are filthy, but the gesture is some-what comforting.

He pulls back, and we continue walking in silence.

I wonder what he'd do if he knew everything...hmm...curiosity. You think my parents are bad? Hell, if only you knew. I'd have a pity party the size of...something very large.

"It smells bad," I complain, as we trek the place in which Rick was supposed to meet "The Governor", whoever the hell that is.

I know the basics, but I've never met him personally.

"Sh," Daryl rebukes me gently.

We keep walking, until that is, we see a horrific sight.

Merle.

Normally, that alone is enough to make me want to vomit, but not even he deserves this.

Merle, is a zombie, walker, creature from beyond the grave. Whatever the hell you want to call it.

I look at Daryl, the look on his face can only be described as pure defeat.

I step back, watching as he goes through his demons, one by one. Merle, his brother, trying to eat him. Daryl, pushing him away, with more force each time. I silently handle the other Walkers coming at him.

I flinch, as he kills Merle, feeling this is a private moment. I turn around. Waiting for him to finish.

Then, when he moans softly, I turn around again. The look of utter despair tugs at my heart strings.

All thoughts of Mischonne gone, I walk up to him, and I don't say a word. Not a single word. I just hold him, as he cries. I'll never speak of this again, unless he wants to talk about it. He seems to know this in the back of his mind and cries into my shoulder, no restrain being shown.

I almost want to cry with him, but right now he needs someone to ground him, not someone to cry with him. In all honesty, Merle was an asshole, he spilled my peaches, and I hated him. Although, this isn't something he deserved. No one does.

I stroke Daryl's hair softly, even though it's greasy and desperately in need of a wash, the gesture was meant as comforting.

We just stood there, this tall guy, crying on my 5'2 shoulder.

I have a pretty good feeling who did this, and even though (as I have pointed out repeatedly) Merle was an ass. He was an ass who was in my 'group'. So, therefore, it is only logical that I help avenge his death. Not in a typical way either, nope, I am going to go full on Ninja and kick some serious ass.

"I want to go," Carl whines. I roll my eyes, making sure he sees it.

"Too bad. You're stuck with us." I tell him, a teasing smirk on my face.

"Well, I'm perfectly capable of handling myself!" He protests.

"So am I, just let the adults have their fun. Who knows, we might get some of the action," I shrug casually.

"Yeah...how can you be so calm about this? Everyone knows that you can more than take care of yourself. After what you did to Merle, and I've seen some of your training with Mischonne, you can handle yourself better than just about everyone here," Carl tells me.

I smile, although it's a bit forced, "Well, I don't exactly like big epic fights. One on One? No problem, in fact, I love them. But the ones with guns and serious shit? I'd rather avoid them, I like my hearing," I shrug, zipping up my bag and swinging it around my shoulder.

"Do you ever go anywhere without that thing?" Carl asks, amused.

"Are you fucking insane? There is no way in hell I am going anywhere, and I mean anywhere, without this. It has...everything you could ever need in life! I still have two cans of peaches left," I say smiling at the thought of peaches, ah peaches.

"What is with your obsession with peaches?" Carl asks, frustrated. I'd be frustrated with me too, who am I kidding? I'd be fucking best friends with myself. Actually... I kind of am. Huh.

"...It's just so unfair..." I tune in, then out of Carl's ranting. What does he expect me to do, magically summon a unicorn to fix all of the worlds problems?

"Yeah, yeah, we've got to get a move on," I tell him.

"Right," He says angrily. Forcing me to roll my eyes at him...again.

"Would you quit rolling your eyes at me?" Carl asks, a teasing smile on his face for a change.

I grin at the change, "Nope. Besides, I think my eyes look prettier when I roll them. Not everyone has your amazing eyes," I say. Yes, I can now openly admit that Carl Grimes has the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen in my life.

A small blush rises on his cheeks, it's good to know that no matter how tough he acts, I can make him blush with a simple compliment.

"Ready for this?" I ask, casually.

"I guess," He remarks moodily.

Now that I'm looking, Carl acts...differently around me. Around everyone else, he is this moody teenager. Most of the time, it's the same with me, but occasionally I glimpse a lighter side of him.

It makes me smile.

I watch as Carl walks out of the room. A strange feeling developing in my stomach.

You know, I think...I think I like Carl.

Shit.

**-K**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry! It's been a long time. I'm feeling like myself again, which is good. For weeks, even before I started this story, I've been feeling extremely...ahem...not myself. I guess. Yes, it has to do with a boy, ugh. Boys. Ugh. Ugh on so many different levels of applesauce just Ugh. Sure, I talk to myself sometimes, and I have conversations with my characters, but does that make me crazy? Maybe a little... but I'm funny? Yes, the question mark is intended. Anyway his name is Sp-**

**"No one cares! Aubrie, quit whining about your love life! They only care about my love life!" Jade says smugly.**

**"Carl! Jade's picking on me again!" Aubrie-Marie, or me, or Beautifully Corrupted whines.**

**"Sorry, Aubrie, she's right. You sound really whiney," Carl says sheepishly.**

**"I do not! Right Daryl?"**

**"Uh...maybe you should just start writing," Daryl informs me.**

**"You're my characters! You have to agree with me!"**

**"We're not yours, you are simply borrowing us for your own creative purposes." Maggie says stubbornly.**

**"Well..Jade is mine!" Aubrie protests feebly.**

**"Excuse me! I belong to no one! No wonder Sp-"**

**"Jade. Do. Not. Go. There. I'll tell Carl about your recent...revelation.." Aubrie threatens smugly.**

**"You wouldn't dare!" Jade growls, Aubrie just smirks at her. Both of the red-heads ignoring Carls persistent questioning about this 'revelation'.**

**"I would too,"**

**"Okay, well these two argue it out, I present to you the next chapter, faithful readers," Rick says.**

Chapter five, Secrets?

I hate listening to Carl rant. Actually, I'm not listening. Still, I can hear that he is talking. I don't like it.

"For the sake of all things applesauce, shut up!" I scream whisper.

"I will not shut-"

I cut him off, "Did you hear that?" I ask.

"Hear what?"

"A unicorn giving birth to a narwhal," I reply dryly.

Another crinkling of leaves.

"It's just a walker," Carl says blankly.

"No it's not. I don't hear any moaning and this person, this very much alive person, is trying to be stealthy." I tell him pulling out my gun.

"Hershal, Beth, stay behind us. Guard Judith," Carl commands.

Another crinkling of leaves, this time I hear breathing.

Scanning the area, I see a figure moving. I make everyone but Carl hide beneath the bush even further.

"Stay here," I command Carl.

"What? No!" He protests in an angered whisper.

"Yes. We don't know how many of them there are, you need to keep the baby safe." I say, my tone grim.

"I never get to do anything!" He sighs.

I roll my eyes, and flip elegantly over the bush. Not making a sound. I'm pretty impressive, I know.

I trek after the figure. When they hear me, they stop, turning around. A boy. He's a boy. A fairly young one. He's running.

"Uh...Uh..." He stumbles.

I merely roll my eyes and raise my gun. His eyes widen in fear.

"Who are you? What are you doing here, and I would recommend that you don't lie to me," I say.

The fear vanishes from his eyes, and it's replaced with something else.

He walks forward, a smug smile on his face.

"Are you out here, all alone?" He asks slyly.

I don't answer, and he walks closer.

"A pretty girl like yourself? You need protection. I'd be happy to offer my protection, for a small price that is," He says. Making his intentions clear.

I roll my eyes and press the gun to his forehead.

"Darling, there's no need for rough play." He says. Then, catching me off guard, he removes the gun from my grasp. Sending it flying.

He still has his gun though.

Dammit! Last time I give anyone more than two seconds to talk.

I kick up, but he counters it easily. Pushing me against a tree.

"You know, I live in this town. There are girls there, but none of them are as pretty as you," He tells me, a sick grin on his face. A sudden memory rushes over me, a memory I'd rather not relive. Ever.

"Gee, don't you know how to make a girl feel special," I reply sarcastically. You see, that's my defense. Whenever I'm scared. I get sarcastic. Or when I'm bored, or just when I want to. I'm a sarcastic person.

I hope he can't notice the way my breath hitches.

"Enough talk, I'm taking my payment," He says, and then in a jerky movement he kisses me roughly. It's by no means a good kiss, it's sloppy and I'm struggling. I start to squirm in panic.

No. This is not going to happen to me again. I start thrashing my body against his, trying to get something free, but his grip is really strong.

Should I scream for help? No. I can handle myself.

"My apologies, my name is Jody," He introduces.

I glare at him, and continue my struggle.  
"I like your hair, it's so...soft." He says, tugging on my hair forcefully.

"Go screw yourself," I spit venomously.

"No, I have you for that. The real fun comes later though," He says, his wandering hands grabbing my chest roughly.

"Over my dead body," I hiss.

"Aw, don't be like that. It ruins all the fun," He whispers, as he sucks on my neck.

"Fun? I'm pretty sure this is sexual assault," I reply angrily.

"And whose going to punish me? You?" He laughs arrogantly.

I should have shot him when I had the chance.

"Hell yeah I am, you have no idea what you've just done! You arrogant -Ow!" I yelp out, not on purpose though. He pulls on my chest with force. I'm going to have a bruise later. Ugh.

His hands wander downwards, and grab my waist tightly.

"Such a pretty girl. Don't worry, I'll break your spirt." He says with a toothy grin.

"Better men than you have tried," I reply scathingly.

He doesn't reply, his mouth begins to roughly wander around my neck...and then down. Too far down for my taste.

"You fucking sick freak get the hell off of me!" I almost scream, trashing against him with all the force I can muster.

"You like this? You like this don't you, say you like it whore!" He commands.

Oh hell no.

"Do. Not. Tell. Me. What. To. Do." I growl. His grip tightens around my waist.

"You know, I was going to wait for this, but I suppose we can do it now." He remarks as his hands slide under my shirt. At first, he tries ripping it, but the material is better than that. He resolves by lifting it over my head and tossing it to the side.

Leaving me in only my bra. Well, fuck.

He takes my breast into his palm and begins to rub it roughly.

Seeing an opening, I bite his shoulder. Hard. Really, really hard.

He screams out. Loudly.

Though his grip on me does not ease up in the slightest. Squirming against him I refuse to let anything but anger show through my eyes. Unlike fear, or vulnerability, I belive that anger isn't a weak emotion. I've been in this position before, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let it end the same way.

No way in hell.

I fight against him, maneuvering my body to delay his hands.

The next thing I know, Jody is yanked off of me, and being punched in the face. Repeatedly. By Carl.

I blink in surprise. Then I blink again, just taking in the sight. Carl is beating the fuck out of Ben, and the others are no where in sight.

Nope. Not going to let anyone fight my fights for me, I take a swing at Ben, and hear the crack of his jaw breaking.

After Jody is rendered unconscious, Carl shoots him in the head.

Yeah...so that just happened. Sorry, I'm not really all that specific right now, I am still suffering from shock.

Carl looks at me, his eyes widening, and a bright red blush attacking his face.

"Um..." He trails off. I notice that he's making a visible effort to not look at my chest. He's failing miserably, but at least he's trying.

Funny, this kid can kill people, walkers, his own mother, but when faced with a girls ahem chest. He's rendered...speechless.

Wait...Oh god. As I realize that this 'chest' happens to be my own, I feel a heat rising to my own cheeks.

Walking over to my shirt, I pull it over my body as fast as I can.

"Uh...thanks..." I say shortly.

For the rest of the day, Carl and I can't look at each other without blushing intensely. Leaving two of our companions confused. The other one probably would have been confused, but she doesn't understand a whole lot. I'm talking about Judith, not Beth. Just to clarify.

Epic awkwardness.

Supreme epic awkwardness.

That's about the time when I see, and hear, a bunch of figures over the horizon.

The adults.

Okay, I really hate calling them that, I mean it's degrading but I really don't want to list them all by name. Though I am happy to say that all of them are alive.

"Come on." Daryl says gruffly.

I obey without a second thought, rushing past Carl and practically sprinting towards the prison.

Only, I'm a little surprised when I see a bus of people.

Lot's of people. Old people.

I know this is really insensitive and all but, am I the only one whose worried about them dying in their sleep and coming back as walkers set on eating my face? Because if I am, well...should I voice my opinion? I don't know...hmm I'll just have to keep a close watch on these old people.

"How was your day?" Maggie asks.

"Oh...it was...um...boring and stuff..." I trail off, feeling a blush creep past my features I risk a glance at Carl. Our eyes meet, and my blush deepens.

"Um...I'm...Uh...I'm going to go to my cell," I say quickly and run to said cell. I press myself against the mattress and sigh.

I sigh again. Then, I gently lift my tank-top just enough to see a few bruises on my hips, I sigh louder this time.

I'm going to be so sore in the morning. I know what your thinking, why am I not freaking out. After-all, someone did just try to rape me. You want the answer?

It's happened before. I've made my peace with it...sort of.  
Okay, so this time it wasn't really bad.

I'm going to tell you a super secret, you're not allowed to tell anyone. Not one person on the planet! Okay? Okay.

When this whole thing first started, I was wandering around aimlessly. Killing walkers as I went.

I was a terrified little girl, and I was all alone. I didn't come across any people for at least two months. I stuck to roads, big open areas because walkers tended to migrate towards the woods and secluded areas. This way, I couldn't be surprised.

I'd just raided an gun store and gotten a cool new sword. I was still working everything out. I knew my parents weren't the best people, but I didn't expect them to leave me on my own to survive. It was around that time when I met a man. He was familiar, one of my dads friends.

I should have known better than to trust anyone my father knew, but like I said before, I was scared. I went with him, back to where he told me his camp was.

Okay, here's where it gets really bad, so if you're weak minded, or you don't really like graphic things, I suggest you walk away right now. You're still here? Well...you've been warned.

He led me into his survival camp, and he told me to stand by this wooden post thing in the middle of the camp. I listened. Next thing I know, all sorts of men are pinning me, and eventually tying me to the post thing.

There were at least four dozen men, maybe more, but there were definitely a lot. One of them smirked and pulled out a knife. I thought they were going to kill me. I was wrong. Really wrong. They took the knife and sliced my clothes until they were shreds of fabric lying on the ground.

Let me summarize, I was tied to a post, completely naked, in front of at least fifty men.

Oh, yeah it gets worse.

I don't remember much of that night, I've sort of blocked it out of my direct memory. Though, I do remember that each one of the men...had their way with me through out the night.

Yeah...if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about that night in depth. Just know, it was not my best moment.

I feel tears prickling at my eyes, and despite me trying to fight them, they find their way into running down my cheeks.

So, I kind of just sit here for a while. Crying. I don't make those depressing sobbing sounds, I don't even move. I just cry.

Yeah, I have a messed up past, but I also have a screwed up present. I don't really see it getting better any time soon though.

I don't know how long I've been laying here, crying. I know it's been a while though. I jump a little at the sound of someone knocking on the cell wall.

Wiping my eyes furiously, I quietly call for them to come in.

I shift my gaze, seeing Carl approach me.

"Look, Jade. I'm sorry. I saw what that guy was doing...but I was too embarrassed about seeing you...uh you know... to talk about it with you. Are you okay?" He asks. Concerned. This is something I haven't seen in Carl before. He always manages to surprise me.

Sometimes, he's cold, uncaring and insensitive, then he's angry, violent and a little crazy, then he's hyper, childish and fun, and then...then he acts like this.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's not like it hasn't happened before," I laugh bitterly.

"What do you mean?" Carl asks.

"You and your group...you're special. I've traveled a lot, and I'm a girl. There aren't too many young girls around anymore. Most of them died. Some men just give in to their...animalistic craving for... um...company," I tell him.

"Uh...You wanna talk about it?" He asks.

Well, here I go again with the waterworks. In one last attempt to savor my dignity, I shake my head no. So, imagine me, shaking my head with tears streaming down my face. My green eyes swollen and puffy.

This is just amazing. Just perfect.

Carl, once again, does the something I don't expect. He hugs me.

I give in, weeping into his chest. Shaking as all of the bottled up emotions drain out of me. Just sobbing.

Carl doesn't say anything, he just holds me his thumb circling my back in comforting motions.

I don't protest when Carl leans backwards, so we're both lying against the bed. For the second time since I've known him, I fall asleep next to Carl.

**So? Was it emotional enough? I feel like that episode didn't have nearly enough Carl in it. I also don't believe that Jody was an innocent kid, as Hershal put it. Plus, I had to do something to add a little Carl/Jade stuff to the story. That just felt right.**

**"Felt right?! Are you insane? You put me through all of that, just because 'it felt right'? You're crazy! Evil! Pure evil!" Jade shouts at me.**

**"Yeah! You can't just do that to her!" Carl scolds me.**

**"I'll do whatever I want, I'm the author! I hold all the power! Muahaha" I cackle evilly. **

**"You can't just be a bitch towards me because Sp-" Jade begins.**

**"Don't say his name." I growl. **

**"I'll say his name if I want!" Jade says proudly. **

**"Not if you love peaches..." I threaten in a sing-song voice. **

**"Fine." **

**-K**


	6. Chapter 6

"Aubrie! I'm bored! Write about me killing some zombies with epic-ness!" Jade whines, bored of sitting in the depths of her amazingly awesome authors mind, playing ping-pong with Azalyn. Azalyn is another character in the depths of my mind.

"But I'm sooo busy! Homework is sooo demanding. and I like reading...eh! Not everyone can live in an apocalypse without school!" Aubrie, or me, reasons.

"I don't care! You found spare time to write about Calix! Do you like her better than me?" Jade demands.

"Of course she does! I'm better than you!" Calix says smugly.

"Let me explain while these two are arguing about who is the favorite, Jade and Calix fight about everything. Everything. While giving me fashion advice, they fight. Even though they have pretty much the same taste. Yes, I have my characters give me advice about every day things. While helping me come up with witty responses to jerks who pick fights with the weird writer chick, they fight. While plotting different ways to murder Sp-"

"Yeah, Yeah, Calix and I fight a lot. They get it. Now, are you going to write or what?" Jade asks, glaring at Calix.

"Fine. But you have to buy mental me a cookie at the mental cookie store." I demand.

...Yes I have sort of created a little mental universe where my characters and I interact. It's not weird. Not weird at all. I seriously apologize for this.

I AM DOING A TIME JUMP!

I am really really sorry. But I am. So, it's about four years later, they've defeated the Governor. I know that the series (When it comes back on) is not going to follow these things I've done. But I'm doing it anyway.

I think this is ridiculous. Utterly and truly ridiculous. But I also think this is kind of sweet. We're celebrating Beth's birthday today.

We do it every year, for everyone, and it still always makes me roll my . Still, it's a way to keep society in our grasp. It's hope.

"...Happy Birthday to you!" The group finished strong, off key and totally pitchy, but still totally strong.

Beth is looking at her cake, a wide grin gracing her beautiful face. As always, she has her pretty blonde hair pulled into a braid.

"Thank you guys so much!" She exclaims, pulling her sister into a tight hug.

"You're welcome, Beth," Daryl says, his thin lips curling into a smile.

The joy in Beth's eyes are suddenly clouded with a faint despair, "I just wish daddy could have been here to see me turn twenty," She says quietly.

Rick smiles tightly, "I know," He says.

I roll my forest green eyes, "Are we going to party or what?" I demand, tossing Glenn my bowl.

If there's one thing I know how to do, it's make someone lighten up.

I grab the birthday girl by the hands, leading her to an semi-empty space of the prison.  
a  
"Everyone grab a partner!" I order, smiling as Glenn pulls Maggie close.

Rick and Daryl look at each other with a subtle discomfort. Michonne rolls her eyes, and takes Rick's hand. I crack a huge grin at that.

"Daryl, come here," I demand, the older man comes over to me.

"So, remember what I taught ya?" I ask teasingly.

He places his hands on my waist, "I don't think I could forget even if I tried,"

I grin, "All talk and no walk..." I sing song.

Then, our music, or Beth singing, starts and we sway gently to the harmony.

Who would have thought that the bad-ass Daryl Dixon would be living in an apocalyptic world dancing the waltz? Certainly no ordinary person.

I close my eyes to focus more on the melody of Beth's song, when suddenly Daryl stops moving. I crack my eyes open to find myself staring directly into Carl's intense blue eyes.

How the hell did that happen?

Unlike the boy he was when he was fourteen, at eighteen Carl is...a man. Standing at an intimidating 6'1, with board shoulders and his mop of messy brown hair, it's a wonder why every surviving female in the entire universe isn't trying to get him to fall in love with her.

That's the thing about these Birthday celebrations, they're always just the original group. No one else. But don't let that fool you, there are plenty of other girls out there who are trying to catch Carl's attention. Some of them younger, some of them older. It ranges from ages 15 to 25. It's down right creepy sometimes.

I let my ever present smile full of mischief and deception fall delicately over my lips.

Unlike Daryl's friendly, almost brotherly distance, Carl has me close to him, our breathing in sync with one another.

I can feel his ragged breathing on my neck, but I barely notice that. Our eyes stay locked long after we stop moving, that's one of the reasons I try to avoid Carl now a days, whenever we're together...things get intense.

If I wasn't so involved meeting Carl's eyes, then I would have noticed that it wasn't only me who could feel the intensity of the situation. While we were dancing, moving around in a symphony, the rest of the group stopped what they were doing to watch us.

It was around the time that he turned fifteen when things got intense. Then, when all of those other girls started practically hanging off him, I separated myself. Only seeing him when it was required. I really started to wish I never showed up here, or that we didn't 'save' those people, girls included, from the Governor.

It isn't like there aren't other guys around, but nope, those damn chicks have their eyes set on Carl. It's fucking annoying.

"When's your birthday?" Carl asks me the much anticipated question. You see, this has become a ritual for us. Every time we throw on of these birthday parties, Carl asks me when my birthday is. I respond with something along the lines of 'Go screw yourself," or "None of your damn business," depending on my mood.

"I don't see why it matters," I tell him, forcing myself to take a step back.

"Well," He says taking a step forward, "We have a party for everyones birthday, everyone but you. If you would tell me when your birthday is, we could get you a cake, a party, everything,"

I step forward, so I'm even closer to him, "Maybe I don't want a party,"

"Then what do you want?" He asks. Should it be possible that he makes those words sound so...enticing?

His hand brushes faintly against my cheek, so lightly.

"Peaches. I want peaches." I say, pushing him away slightly.

Peaches. Peaches? I am moron. I am an utter and complete moron.

I can further my point by telling you this, I ran away.

I'm still running away.

Bursting through the prison doors, I scan the area for any movement. I'm alone.

Except for the consistent moaning and groaning going on. You'd think it'd be safer, so much later in the world. That people would have found a way to exterminate the walkers, or that with the diminishing humans and animals, the walkers  
would eventually starve. But no. If anything it's gotten more dangerous.

I watch, as the storm of walkers reach for me through the fence, as if expecting that I'd walk close enough to them for the to feast on my epic-ness.

I snort aloud, and grab onto a tree branch. Swinging myself up, I climb the tall tree sitting on the top. Resting my head against the trunk of the tree, I sigh.

"I am such a moron," I almost groan.

I've been in this world for seventeen years, I've killed...hundreds of walkers. I've dealt with some of the worst people this world has to offer, and when faced with a teenage boy, I say that want peaches.

Speaking of peaches, I reach in my bag and pull out a can. We just raided an old grocery store, and let me tell you, they left all kinds of peaches. Muhaha.

I grab my fork and begin eating the peaches.

Turning my gaze upwards, I look at the moon.

"I am a moron, I will freak out every guy within nine lightyears of my face and I'll die alone and unloved,"

"Great, now I'm talking to myself," I sigh.

"No! Stop that! Quit with the vocalizing of the thoughts!"

Yes, I do realize that I am making absolutely no sense.

I need to kill something.

Finishing off my peaches, I climb out of the trees.

I walk casually over to the gates, smiling at the groaning zombies who are reaching out to me.

I grip the bar, flipping over the gate.

The walkers all stumble towards me and I smirk, taking my sword out of it's sheath. I swing, chopping off several heads in the process, retracting my sword slightly, I spin killing the rest of the walkers.

...That wasn't fun.

"Bored? Maybe we can go a few rounds," A subtle voice remarks.

Caleb.

I spin around, a small smile on my face as I greet my friend.

"Sure, grab your sword," I grin. Caleb has light, dusty blond hair, blue eyes and is rather handsome I suppose.

He takes his sword out, smiling. I lunge at him, but he meets the strike easily. It continues like that, the clashing of our blades ringing through the air.

"I surrender, I surrender," Caleb grins.

"Now tell me, what are you doing out here, Jade?" Caleb asks, seeing my discomfort.

"Carl."

"What'd you say this time?" He asks, as I swing myself over the fence.

I explained what happened to him, blushing as he chuckled at me.

"It's not funny!" I swat at his arm, walking back to the prison.

"It is completely funny," He defends.

"Oh yeah? Today's Beth's birthday, what are you going to do for her?" I ask, turning it around on him.

"I made her a bracelet," He states proudly, holding up the thin piece of colorful thread.

"Go-What in the applesauce is that?" I ask, pointing towards the horizon.

Caleb turns slightly, spots the danger, and pales.

"Get inside. Come on!" He almost screams, pulling me violently towards the door.

I slam it shut, locking it securely.

"We have to warn the others," Caleb and I say at the same time, looking at one another.


	7. Chapter 7

**"IT'S ABOUT FREAKING TIME!" Jade screamed at her writer, still furious at the teenage girl for being stuck in the back of her mind for so long.**

**"Yeah...I know...It's just I've been so busy...and the imprisoned mother...and the moving...and the monitoring! I can't write with people monitoring my every move! Plus! I've been in foster care for the past couple of weeks," Aubrie, or me I suppose said, staring at my feet guilty. I would like to say that me being in foster care was purely a misunderstanding. Also, my mother is in prison for 1-50 years for being an idiot. This was not related to foster care-ness.**

**"Excuses? Are you trying to feed me excuses?! After everything you've put me through, not to mention the last chapter, you want to use excuses?!" Jade demanded.**

**"What's wrong with the last chapter?" I demanded fiercely. Actually...you know what I am going to just call myself Aubrie-Marie. It sounds better. And is much less confusing for all of us...I hope.**

**"Oh, don't be coy, we both know that chapter was rushed. And the cliffhanger, you left it hanging so long you forgot what you were going to do!" Jade pointed out, an arrogant smirk on her face.**

**"Yeah, well...I came up with an even better idea...I think...maybe I should have gone with my first thought. You could fight of giant mutant flying monkeys!"**

**"I swear, if you didn't have us floating around in your head giving you advice, you would be dead. So incredibly dead." Jade sighed. 'Us' meaning all of the characters, even the ones who had yet to get their own story, that were living in the depths of Aubrie's imagination. The ones that gave their opinion...on everything. EVERYTHING! And it drove Aubrie crazy. Well...crazier.**

**"Aubrie-Marie! I will come over there and slap you if you don't stop complaining! Get to writing, slave!" Jade ordered.**

**Aubrie grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "I'm telling Azalyn on you!"**

**Jade merely snorted, "Go ahead, she won't care, you haven't even given her the story you promised her yet!"**

With wide eyes, Caleb and I run as quickly as we can, before I send him off to the mess hall. Warning everyone we met on the way there.

By the time I get to the original group, all of them smiling and laughing, I'm gasping for breath.

"People in armored cars, a lot of them, and they've got walkers," I say in between breaths. My green eyes large with fear.

No further questions need to be asked, casting apologetic looks to Beth, everyone files out of the room. Going to settle down the panic that is no doubt rising.

Leaving me alone, gasping for air. It's not that I'm out of shape, really it's not, but if I'm honest, I'm sort of hyperventilating. There are a lot of walkers coming. Enough of them, with the help of those cars, to finally break the fence.

"Wow, Jade, you're losing your touch," Carl says, which caused me to scream inwardly. Luckily on the outside I remained cool...well if you count hyperventilating cool.

"Shouldn't you be with the others, after-all, I'm sure the entire female population would be a whole hell of a lot calmer knowing that their savior is going to protect them," I spat bitterly, "You'd be their hero, I hate to keep you from them,"

I hate myself, I really truly hate myself when I'm scared. Because I don't want anyone else to know that I'm as scared as I am. So I lash out. All of my feelings about Carl being pushed out into the open, so my fear could take their place in secrecy.

"What are you talking about, Jade?" He asks me in bewilderment.

Feeling a stinging pain in my chest as he called me by my false name, I shake my head.

"We've got more important things to worry about," I snap at him. Ready to storm out of the room when he grabs my elbow.

"Carl," I say slowly, my voice low and treacherous, "If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you remove it," The last little bit came out as more of a growl.

Surprisingly, he didn't let go, in fact he only held on tighter.

"You won't hurt me, Jade,"

And then, I just can't take it anymore. The rage comes rushing out before I can stop it.

"DON'T CALL ME JADE!" I roar, baring my teeth.

His blue eyes clouded over with frustration and confusion.

"Then what else am I supposed to call you?" He asks, his tone exasperation.

"Did it ever occur to you, that you don't know me?" I ask suddenly.

"What?"

"You don't know me, not at all, isn't that scary? I've lived with you since we were fourteen, and yet you know nothing about me. You only know what I told you..." I trail off, my thoughts running wild. I'd never really thought about my lies before, I mean sure I knew that one day I would have to do something about them, but I never knew the extent to which they went. I just assumed everyone knew it was a lie just as well as I did, I didn't ever bother to think that they believed the stuff I told them.

"What are you talking about? Of course I know you. You're Jade Macl, you're from New York, you're parents died, and you're an only child-" I cut him off before he could continue torturing me with the false information.

Tears of emotion welling up in my eyes, the constriction in my chest was enough to kill me.

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?" Carl asks, and honestly I can't identify the emotions running through his voice.

"I'm not Jade Macl, I'm not from New York, I don't know if my parents are dead or not, and I have a little brother,"

"Jade. Stop it. This isn't funny," He looks at me, his eyes full of fear. I have a feeling he isn't scared of the people coming.

"I'm serious." My voice came out raspy, almost like a hiss.

"You...you...what are you trying to say?" Carl asks finally.

"I'm trying to tell you, that you don't know me. You know nothing about me, and yet you trusted me with your life, the life of your family. Don't you think that's scary? I think it's so ironic," I muse as something inside of me snaps. It's hard to explain really what that sinking realization feeling in my stomach is, but I think I have a pretty good idea.

Carl remains silent so I take a step forward, my eyes swirling with emotion, "Please don't call me Jade," I request almost silently.

"Then what should I call you?"

"Cl-" I start before an explosion rings out.

The doors burst open, and six men run into the room holding up guns. Taking advantage that they have yet to see us, I tackle Carl onto the ground, behind one of the tables silently.

Removing a gun and a handful of throwing knives from my boot, I smile deviously.

"You're about to get to know me a little bit more," I whisper, before flipping out from under my cover.

The men are quick to shoot, giving me barely seconds to avoid the bullets.

Not hesitating, I fire my gun with one hand and toss the knives with the other. The smooth metal pressing into my palm, before slicing through its target with deadly precision.

Quickly diving behind a wall while people shoot at me, I cast a look at Carl. Still undiscovered. Charging forward, I toss my last knife at one of the men and shoot the other.

"You can come out now," I call to Carl. Who, surprisingly does as he's told without saying anything.

He's looking at me with a sullen expression, and I decide it's best not to push him.

"Do you have a weapon?"

Carl nods.

"Good."

We trail out of the room slowly, after I retrieve my knives from the mens skulls.

We walk in silence, and Carl doesn't protest when I take out the few men we see without him.

He breaks the silence, "What the fuck are you?"

Not who, what.

"What do you mean?"

"You killed six armed men, with nothing but a handgun and a couple of knives in less than five minutes without so much as a scratch, what the fuck are you?"

"I'm human,"

He looks at me skeptically, "And how would I know if you're telling the truth?"

I could not be a bigger moron, you wanna know why? You wanna know? Too damn bad. Okay, fine I'll tell you.

I stop, turn around, and grab a fistful of Carl's shirt and press my lips against his. God, he's going to rip himself away from me and freak out.

Let me tell you, when he starts responding to me, shocked isn't even a fair description.

His hands tangle themselves in my hair, pulling me closer to him. He deepens the kiss and I'm not complaining.

You know something, what the fuck is up with that couple that are sitting there making out while being attacked? When their lives are in mortal danger? Well, let me tell you something. Sexual tension that's been building for years, it tends to pop at the worst moments.

"That's her! That's the one we're after!" A voice shouts, and I pull away from Carl instantly. Getting ready to throw knives.

"What do we do?" Another voice asks, I search around the room trying to find where the voices are coming from.

"I just sent Thomas to tell him, he'll be here soon. Just keep her there," the first voice says firmly.

"Why don't you come out and fight, cowardly bastards?" I demand.

No response.

"I'll kill you either way! Might as well get it over with!"

"You aren't getting out of here any time soon," one of the voices says back.

"It'll just give me more time to plot your demise!" I shout, "I'm thinking it will have something to do with peaches!"

"I was hoping she calmed down with age, seems like she's still the same spitfire she was when she was young," a new voice says.

My blood runs cold, and my eyes dart towards Carl. This is not going to end well.

**"Another Cliffhanger?! What are you crazy?!" Jade demands. The only thing she is rewarded with is a mysteriously evil chuckle from her writer.**

**Until next time, **

**-K**


	8. Chapter 8

**"You are a horrible person, you know that?" Jade whined as she watched her beautiful, amazing, incredibly talented author write a new story.**

**"Why would you say such a thing?"**

**"Because, you are sitting here, on your extended weekend, writing a brand new story! You haven't even finished mine!"**

**"But...it's an original, it has time travel, romance and epic sword fights, and that's only the first few chapters!"**

**"Well, no one wants to read your original story, people are counting on you to update my story!"**

**"Fine."**

**Chapter Eight: **

I stand my ground, firm in my decision not to show any fear. I can only hope that the man haunting my childhood won't notice the way my fingers shake around the metal of my knives.

"Clover, put the knife down," he orders, his tone is unpleasantly familiar. It's the tone that he used when I didn't get the technique right. The tone he used before he beat me.

I fight the urge to do as he says and drop the blade like it's burning, that's what Clover would do. Clover is a scared, abused little girl. I'm not Clover, I'm Jade. Jade is a tough fearless badass.

"No." I tell him, my eyes blazing with fury.

"What did you just say to me?" He demanded, stepping closer to me. His green eyes, similar to my own, alight with that frightening violent temper of his.

All of the memories come rushing back, everything he did to me. Every single time he struck me, every single time he tortured me to 'build character' I remember it vividly. The memories no longer invoke fear, they evoke anger.

I don't back away, cowering and begging for forgiveness in tears. Instead, I step forward daring him to strike me down like he used to. I'm stronger now, I'm much faster. He can't hurt me anymore.

Carl wisely chooses to remain silent, but the man with eyes like my own doesn't care.

"You, boy!" he calls, throwing me a primal grin, "Who the hell are you?"

Carl does not answer, he just glares. Not a smart move on his part, "It is none of your concern, you are in a place under my protection. State your business." I command.

The man regards me with amusement and anger, "Who do you think you are, bossing me around like that?" .

I intake a breath, "I am the heiress of the operation, I outrank you," I growl, pulling rank on the man.

He looks at me in amusement, "I am here for you, princess Clover," he tells me. Bowing slightly.

I growl, "What do you want with me?"

"Your father has requested that I bring you to him," the man says.

"How did you find me?"

The man's rough lips quirk, "Even at the end of the world, we still have power,"

"I refuse." I told him, holding the knife against his throat.

In a swift movement, I'm on the ground and the man is hovering over me, "I trained you, I made you what you are now, you foolish child cannot defeat me in battle, you will do as your king commands and come with me!" the man roars.

I stiffen, my right hand making distracting grasps for the knife that is clearly out of my reach. However, I subtly slip my left hand around a dagger I can reach. A dagger resting in the mans belt Gripping it's handle, I use my right hand to smack against his skull, forcing him to turn slightly. Just enough for me to lunge my dagger into his side. The blood is quick to emerge, soaking me in crimson.

I push up, now easily removing his body from my own. The guards surrounding me, rush to help the man. Kyle is his name. My uncle Kyle.

One of them, one I do not recognize, makes a grab for Carl. He finds himself with a ruby encrusted diamond between his eyes."Run!" I scream, pulling Carl down the hallway. He makes no objections.

"What the hell was that?" he demands.

"My family found us,"

"You're a fucking princess?"

"This really isn't the best time to explain," I tell him as we duck around a corner, gasping for breath.

"It's always excuses with you isn't it?"

"Pretty much."

"CLOVER!" Kyle screams, his green eyes glowing with fury.

Carl and I attempt to run, but a plethora of bulky bodies pointing guns at us is in our way.

I curse loudly, kicking the wall.

Kyle chuckles without humor, "Subdue both of them, and load them into the car," his order is the last thing I hear.

My bleary eyes open to darkness, and I sigh. A crate. I'm in another bloody box! Why does this keep happening to me?

"You awake?" Carl asks softly.

"No. I'm an image of your vivid imagination, if you concentrate hard enough I'll become a mermaid," I reply rolling my eyes.

"So...you're a princess, huh?"

"Not exactly." I answer evasively. I should have known this conversation would come eventually. I mean, when you stab your uncle, kill his henchman and get kidnapped along with a boy who...you have...feeling for, your bound to end up discussing your heritage, right? No. It's just me? Of course...

"What are you a princess of?"

I laugh nervously, a dry and cracked sound, "Er...well...uh..."

"Just tell me!" Carl all but screams.

"No need to get testy..."

"What are you a goddamn princess of?" he demands.

"This is going to sound crazy,"

Carl chuckled, "When it comes to you, nothing is crazy,"

"I'm the princess of the American Mafia,"

I'm thankful for the darkness, I prefer not to see the look on Carls face. He is silent for a very long time, and I can only imagine what's going through his head.

"Okay. That is crazy, even for you."

"Well...it's true,"

"I don't doubt that,"

"Who was that man you stabbed?"

"My uncle, Kyle,"

He snorted, but said nothing more of the subject, "Where are we going?"

"To my father."

I'm confident that Carl was giving me one of his 'looks', and I was sure he was going to scream at me when he asked in a very soft voice, "Can I kiss you again?"

It is my turn to be silent, and I am, for a very very long time. And then, I burst into laughter.

Carl made an offended noise, "Not exactly the reaction I was looking for," he said.

"I'm sorry...it's just..." I tried to stop laughing, "We're in a box, being sent to the head of the Mafia, and you just found out that I'm the heir to be head of the Mafia, and you want to make-out?"

"I never said anything about making out...but if you're offering," he trails off suggestively.

"Your insufferable,"

"I think it's the tranquilizer...I feel loopy...want to make it better?"

I laughed, noticing that I too felt a little...out of sorts, "You are such a guy,"

"Well...I'd hope so,"

I laughed, and laughed, and laughed until tears were streaming down my face.

"So...about making out?"

"Sure...why not? It's not like I've got anything better to do,"

**Short...weird...and over-all strange chapter. Yes I know. But, just so you know, for the last little bit of the chapter the tranquilizer was still wearing off...they weren't really the same. What do you think of uncovering Jade's past? Surprised? Let me know in the comments! Seriously people, I gotz to knowz! Adding a z to every word makes it adorable...right? No. Okay. Anyway, tell me what you thought. Are you excited to meet Jade's father? Did you think Kyle was her father? I did for a while there...haha...anyway bye!**

**See you soon, and so will the leader of the Mafia,**

**-K **


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